Completely, Unreasonably Dysfunctional
by AfternoonBubbleTea
Summary: The point of these blogs are to kind of let out some anger and get the opinions of fellow internet goers because I feel like you guys could really hand out some useful advice. Advice on what, you might ask. Well good sir or madam, this is my senior year. The year I am going to singlehandedly win the heart of my best friend Stan Marsh.
1. August Sixteenth

Who is to know why I act this way.

It could be all the Red Bull I consume daily or maybe the fact I haven't had a girlfriend since freshman year. Or maybe I'm bat-shit crazy, such as, perhaps, say Tweek Tweak. The kid did catch himself on fire five times in Chemistry. Not on purpose of course, but enough for the teachers to ban him from labs. But this blog isn't about Tweekers. Nor is this blog really about me.

It's about an angsty teenage boy who goes by the name Stan Marsh and happens to wear a blue hat with a red puffball. More like he used to until we reached an age where it became socially unacceptable. But hey, whatever it was getting too small for him anyways.

If there is one thing you need to know about me, I get distracted very easily so if I do go off subject, please do not mind me.

So back to the point, my story begins in a small city in Colorado called South Park; a spunky little town full of over half of America's imbeciles. And in this hellhole of idiots, there resides two super-best-friends by the names of Kyle and Stan. Kyle is a Jewish, scrawny seventeen-year-old boy with fiery red hair and an asshole of a personality. He is rather intelligent (or at least considers himself to be; that conceited dick) and enjoys playing baseball and attending National Honors Society meetings. He has a massive, crooked nose and dark green, pointy eyes that make him appear angry just about all the time. The best thing about him is not his towering six foot height or his wonderful ass, but no; he has the scorching, lusting passion of desire to fuck his best friend.

Stan is an attractive sex god that appeals to every woman's voluptuous fantasies. He plays football (head quarterback thing or whatever, I could care two-shits about football) and is dating the head cheerleader and has been for three years. He has an odd sense of fashion that ranges somewhere between indie-hipster-faggot and preppy-jock-faggot (I know, those two totally go together, don't they?). He manages to be taller than poor, short Kyle and has ten times the muscle. Not gross muscle or anything, just the perfect amount of lean. Sometimes Stan goes to parties and sometimes he does drugs, but he still manages to remain a pretty sensible guy and never goes overboard no matter how much his friends taunt him. Stan is kind of a pussy, but the nice kind you'd like to fuck all over the place. He plays guitar and makes below-average grades (above with _my_ help) though those two things are not any bit related. I'm kind of just ranting about how pretty much I would like to jump his bones if you haven't noticed.

The point of these blogs are to kind of let out some anger and get the opinions of fellow internet goers because I feel like you guys could really hand out some useful advice. _Advice on what_, you might ask. Well good sir or madam, this is my senior year. The year I am going to singlehandedly win the heart of my best friend Stan Marsh. So just sit back, prop your feet on your desk, and enjoy my blog because tomorrow is the first day of the most treacherous year of my high school career.

-Love,

Kyle Broflovski


	2. August Twenty-first

**Please ignore any mistakes for I really don't care and neither should you**

* * *

Well you guys, today was interesting to say the least. It was a pretty decent first week of school in which you might judge me. I guess I should explain to, what, the three of my followers?

So Monday was pretty much bullshit. We received our schedules and went to our classes for thirty minutes each before turning our happy butts away from the damned faculty of bitchy teenagers and apathetic teachers and going home. First day is always that worthless and time-wasting. Ever since they started mixing in the North Park kids with our class, they just don't have care anymore. But I did discover that Stan and I have every class together this semester (which if they hadn't mixed NP kids in, that wouldn't have even been one of my worries). Out of the four we share, we sit beside each other in only one of them; said class being A.P. Micro-economics. So I should mention how Stan is as smart as a mouse trained to retrieve cheese from the end of a maze. They know some fancy tricks but damn, they are stupid. So him, being in all of _my _classes means that just like last year, he will copy ninety-five percent of my homework and ace every test by having me text him the answers. Ah, the sweet sacrifices I put up with to keep his pretty little ass in my classes.

We had seen each other almost every day during the summer… well until football camp had kicked in, so seeing Stan at school wasn't really that big of a deal. We said hi to each other and hi-fived like normal bros do and conversed about the annoying, invasive freshman coming it. He then would notice his jock buddies and run over to say hello to them. Fortunately for me, none of the classes we had contained Rebecca (or Red as we've called her since kindergarten). It's not that I and Red don't get along. We do, but you see, she is the head cheerleader and the utmost perfect definition of, well, perfect. And people like Clyde Donovan and Clyde Tucker and Red (and should be Stan) do not get along well with people like me. We used to all get along once upon time before we entered middle school, but nowadays, Cartman pushes me into a locker with a different reason other than being a Jew.

Jocks at PHS aren't exactly like normal jocks due to the fact that _it is_ a small town. They aren't all buff (except for our lovely primate, Eric Cartman, and the ever-so-stupid Clyde Donovan) nor are they air-headed, but they can be huge ass-bags. Example: Cartman decided once he joined the team, he had every goddamn right to start calling me a "nerd" and a, believe it or not, fucking-day-walking-raggedy-ass-teacher-ball-licki ng-Jew.

Once upon a time, in a little town in Colorado, almost every child got along and nobody really quite made fun of anyone else. We all got into many different types of shenanigans and no matter how many fights we got into, we were all still buddies.

But with age, comes responsibilities, such as taking beatings from much more popular, stupider human beings. When did they all decide I wasn't cool anymore?! Me and the guys, we used to be a hit. Of course, until Cartman discovered steroids and Stan discovered pussy. It's sad how when I look back at my childhood friends, Kenny was always the more mature one. He pretty much had life already figured out and still does. Speaking of Kenny, Mr. McCormick is my other best friend, and he, sadly, only has one class with me this semester.

Oh, but there I go getting off the subject again. Monday: Bullshit! Tuesday: Awesome!

Why was Tuesday awesome, you might be asking yourselves… or you're asking yourselves "Hey, when is this faggot finally going to die a sad, lonely death and stop burdening our lives with his whiney, teenage bullshit?" But I really hope you're asking the former… please.

Continuing on, Tuesday is the day I got to meet one of our new students. He is also a senior and happens to be in two of my classes (YES!). His name is William Gallagher (insists that his fellow students call him Will) and he is, well, very attractive. Not Stan Marsh attractive, but pretty damn close. He has this accent that's very, how should I put it, Northernesque, which he says he has because he used to live in Michigan. I think it's sexy and exotic, but hey, I'm just a raging homosexual… who is still hiding in the closet next to childhood favorite shirts and forgotten Hanukkah presents. So this kid enters Mr. McKinley's classroom and immediately asks who the smartest kid is, in which everyone's eyes point accusingly towards me. He then nods, ignoring the pissed-off looking (not to mention, horribly balding) teacher, and walks straight up to Annie Faulk, a girl with too many blond curls and a bad case of acne that sits to my left, and asks her if she could kindly move seats. As I mentioned before, William Gallagher is really attractive with his sexy accent and shining, green eyes and stunning smile, so with an incoherent mumble and a tomato-red blush, Annie grabbed all of her shit and ran (barely, she almost tripped over everything) to the one of the two empty seats remaining. This surprised me since Annie specifically chose that seat to be next to her best friend, Beth. Beth looked extremely surprised to see that her friend would ditch her that quickly, but not nearly as surprised as the fact she just got a new, hot seat-neighbor. Go Beth.

Will then turned to Mr. McKinley and said, with quite a bit of courage, "Sorry, Mr. McKinley, my mom said I absolutely cannot fail any more of my classes." Mr. McKinley could only sputter and glare, obviously feeling intimidated by this handsome newcomer. I, being the cynical asshole I am, loudly chuckled at the demise of the poor, old teacher in front of me, which earned me a glare from other star-pupil, Wendy Testaburger and a smirk from new student, Will. During these events, not once did I look at Stan. So when I decided to share my smile with him, I was taken by surprise. Stan, the king of nice, sweet pussies, was glaring at William with every little evil bone in his body. My smile immediately faded.

_Oh shit._

That afternoon, all I seemed to be able to talk about was William Gallagher and how awesome he was. The other class I had with him had assigned seats but he made sure to find a way to sit by me, which meant intimidating the little old Mrs. Wright, not that I felt much pity since she tried to give me a B last year. That doesn't fly in my book.

So there we are after school leaning against Stan's old Chevy, me ranting about the awesomeness of the new student when Kenny chimes in, being completely 100% straight, how he even found him good-looking. That seemed to be the thing that pushed Stan over the edge and made him crack.

Here are his exact words:

"I don't see anything great about some disrespectful motherfucker who thinks he can get away with intimidating students and teachers to get his way. He's not even that hot, have you seen all his acne scars and damn, that dude needs to shave. And his accent is just outright preposterous."

To which Kenny retorted:

"Try not to choke on jealousy's dick, Stan. Jesus, so what if the guy knows how to get his way and has a few appearance flaws; he's still really sexy. In fact, I think he might even be hotter than you. God forbid that!"

Which then lead to Stan's reply:

"I'm not jealous! You know, he didn't even ask Kyle if it was okay if he mooched off of him in class to get a good grade!"

And that caused me to say:

"Fuck you, Stan. Like you ever asked! Stop being such an arrogant prick!"

Just like that, Stan shut up and stared down at his dirty, old red Chuck's, his face a slight shade of pink.

I felt somewhat bad, but what can I say? He had it coming. After that, we piled into the truck and Stan took us home. That was the end of Tuesday.

Wednesday and Thursday kind of just flowed together; me and Will formed a friendship while mine and Stan's somewhat wavered. It wasn't until today when something totally amazing happened. I was sitting in Econ (a class I have sitting next to both Will and Stan) when the impossible happened.

Will turned to me, his green eyes filled with excitement. "So Kyle, have any plans this weekend?" I go through the filing cabinets of mind, but cannot find anything.

"Not that I can think of." I say, smiling a little bit at the sex god in front of me.

"Cool, you want to-" Unfortunately I never got to find out what it was Will was going to ask me because at that moment, Stan coughed loudly (and might I add very fake), drawing both of our attention.

"Yes, Stan?" I ask a little haughtily, already annoyed for the boy's behavior over the past few days.

"I just wanted to remind you, Kyle, that we have plans this weekend to go see that new movie. We've only been planning this for what? I don't know, since the movie trailer _came out_!" Stan hissed through curled lips. Then I remembered that indeed we did have plans. I turned to Will to tell him never mind but he was already speaking.

"Well it seems to me he doesn't want to go with you or else he would have informed me. In my opinion, you haven't been very friendly towards him in the past few days so kindly back up so I can make plans with my new friend." Will said with a good-hearted smile plastered on his face, but each word seemed etched with venom.

Stan flinched at his words and his curled lips formed into a snarl. I watched as his hands clenched into a fist at his sides, sending a little shock of fear into me.

I quickly jump into the middle before any other menacing things can be said, "I'm sorry Will. I guess I can't this weekend. But next weekend for sure." I give him a soft smile and turn back to the assignment I was helping him on.

Now I know you guys are probably asking how this was a good thing, right? Well I don't know if you've ever been in a situation where two really hot men are fighting over you, but it's amazing. See South Park isn't full of action anymore. In fact, it's rather boring and vanilla, which is weird coming from a kid who went through as many experiences as I. So whenever I see any action in any way besides Cartman's teasing, it really excites me.

You guys are probably thinking "Gee, Kyle, stop being a little slut! Didn't you say this was about you getting Stan?"

All in good time, my darlings. Stan, filled with jealousy that I might be stolen away, is over at my house right now. He is, of course, downstairs trashing my kitchen trying to find food that isn't part of my mom's new healthy "lifestyle". You know, something that is actually food and not a pile of what smells like fish but looks like a salad.

Of course one thing is bothering me… why is such a stud like Will paying so much attention to someone like me? I mean, I'm just not that popular. Unlike him, who hasn't even been here a week but is already a hit with everybody. I guess I'm just being paranoid but good things don't happen to me often anymore so whenever they do, I'm a little taken aback.

Oh whatever. I'm going to go back to my Stan 3.

-Love,

Kyle Broflovski


End file.
